


listen up; they're playing our song

by driedflowers



Series: hp challenge fics [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, this is just 1200 words of mlm/wlw solidarity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-30 16:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12112449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/driedflowers/pseuds/driedflowers
Summary: Draco is in Brussels on vacation with Pansy, and will do whatever it takes to get his hands on some Belgian Liqueur chocolates.





	listen up; they're playing our song

**Author's Note:**

> the actual prompt for this was: Severus Snape actually has a sweet tooth to rival that of Dumbledore. His preference is imported Belgian Liqueur Chocolates. Draco Malfoy often brings these back from trips to Europe which is why Snape always favours him in potions class.
> 
> title from la familia by mirah
> 
> also, i've never been to belgium but all the places mentioned are real!

“Yes, Father, nothing’s going to _happen_ ,” Draco says, and his father finally relents, letting him close the door to the hotel room. Draco rolls his eyes at Pansy and hops onto the bed next to her.

Pansy smirks. “Your parents really can’t make up their minds. _Draco and Pansy, share a room on our trip to Brussels!_ _Draco and Pansy, explore this_ beautiful _city together!_ But don’t let anything happen, right?”

“Can’t we just tell them it’s never going to happen?”

“And lose the intrigue and suspense? The ‘will they/won’t they’ energy we have from the perspective of an outside observer? Absolutely not,” Pansy says, getting up and starting to unpack by hand. They may be at the only wizarding hotel in Brussels, but in Belgium you’re not of age until you’re eighteen, and they’ve been warned countless times not to try to use magic.

Draco lies back on the bed and stares up at the ceiling. “What d’you fancy doing tomorrow?” he asks a crack above the dresser.

Pansy reaches into her suitcase and pulls out a piece of parchment about two feet long. “Well, I was thinking we’d start with the Saint Michael Cathedral, and then Notre Dame du Sablon, and my cousin told me about this great park—”

“Sounds interesting, it really does, but consider this: let’s go to Laurent Gerbaud first,” Draco says, turning to the side to see Pansy’s reaction. He isn’t disappointed; she rolls her eyes so hard it must hurt.

“Is that the place you go to buy chocolates for Snape?”

“It is.”

“Do you think he’d really stop giving you such high marks if you didn’t bring him chocolates?”

“I don’t really want to find out,” Draco says. Pansy shakes her head in what looks like something between disbelief and disdain, but Draco knows she’ll go.

The next morning, after a quick breakfast with Draco’s parents, they walk to Laurent Gerbaud. Pansy insists on bringing a map, but Draco does the navigating; he’s been coming here for six years, so he knows the way.

Familiar bells jingle as Draco opens the door to the shop, but there’s a new girl behind the counter. She looks about their age, and she’s wearing a plunging white v-neck underneath her apron. Pansy immediately steps in front of Draco.

“I can ask for the chocolates,” she says, smoothing down her hair and smirking. Pansy walks up to the counter and leans against it, much closer to the cashier than necessary. “I would ask for the nicest thing in the store, but I have a feeling you’re not for sale,” Draco hears Pansy say before he finds some shelves to peruse. He’s heard enough of Pansy’s flirtations to know it’s best if he tunes this out.

“Draco, come over here!” Pansy calls after what feels like at least ten minutes.

“Finally,” he says, walking up to the counter and pulling out a handful of Muggle money. “How much are they?”

“Marie says they’re out, actually,” Pansy says.

“That took you ten minutes to find out?” Draco says. Both girls blush, and Draco gets back to what matters. “You’re out of Belgian Liqueur chocolates?”

“ _Je suis désolée_ , _Monsieur_ , but we just had a huge order. We do have some crystallized pineapple in...”

Draco takes a step back and sighs. “Out of Belgian Liqueur chocolates. In Belgium. You know, I’ve been coming to this store for six–”

“I’m sure there are other chocolate shops in this city,” Pansy cuts in smoothly. “Or we could always come back here again.” She winks at Marie.

“What’s the name of the other store?” Draco asks, and, as soon as he can drag Pansy away, they start off in search of it.

“Give me that,” Draco snaps, grabbing the map from Pansy.

Pansy just laughs. “Are you mad that I’m doing better than you? That girl was totally into me.”

“I’m mad that I’m going to fail Potions this term, that’s why I’m mad. I could be picking up lots of guys if I wanted to be.”

“Not if you’re whining like this,” Pansy says, grinning.

They walk in silence for a while, and Draco lets the tension fades from his shoulders slowly enough so Pansy won’t notice. Brussels really is a beautiful city, and if they have to walk through it in order for Draco not to fail potions this year, he might as well appreciate it.

They walk for hours, talking sometimes but mostly in content silence, old friends exploring a new city together. The sky is starting to turn a soft purple before Pansy says, “Oh my God, we’ve been walking forever.”

“I don’t know how Muggles live like this,” Draco agrees, looking down at the map. They should be almost there, he thinks. Pansy looks on next to him, and then hits him in the shoulder.

“ _Draco_! You’re looking at the wrong side!”

“What?”

Pansy flips over the map. “This side is a map of Paris! How did you not notice that the street names don’t match?”

“What kind of map has two sides?”

“Lots of maps! Merlin,” Pansy says, scanning the map and pointing to a street towards the corner. “We’re here. On the opposite side of the city from our hotel, and from the chocolate shop.”

By the time they get to the chocolate shop, all the streetlights are on, and it’s well and truly nighttime. The lights in the store are off, but Draco goes up to the door just to check. It closed hours ago.

“We can just go tomorrow,” Pansy says. “Let’s go back to the hotel, please.”

“Tomorrow? Pansy, Sundays are the _only_ time to buy Belgian chocolate. That’s when the best wares are set out!”

“My feet are killing me. Do you know how much flats hurt to walk in? And I think, like, six of my bobby pins fell out.”

“Do you have any more?”

“What, bobby pins? I guess,” Pansy says, feeling around her hair.

“Yes,” Draco says, a plan beginning to take shape in his mind. He accepts a bobby pin from Pansy and approaches the door. If asked, he won’t admit it, but Draco’s seen enough Muggle movies to know that you can pick a lock with a bobby pin. It can’t be that hard, right?

Ten minutes later, Draco concludes that it is, in fact, that hard. All he’s succeeded in doing is bending four bobby pins out of shape and further annoying Pansy.

“Look, Draco, you’re not even that bad at Potions. Snape isn’t going to fail you if you don’t bring the chocolates this once.”

There’s something so viscerally wrong about that statement, something he can’t put into words. If he’s not doing everything he possibly can—ethical or not—to secure his grades, his _value_ , his place in the world, then something is wrong. But that’s too big, too heavy and unwieldy and messy to put on Pansy. Instead of saying what he’s thinking, what he’s always thinking, Draco grimaces and says, “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Pansy’s face softens for a moment and Draco thinks that maybe she understands. “We’ll come back super early tomorrow morning,” she promises. Draco lets her pull him back onto the street, and she smirks. “Marie has an afternoon shift tomorrow, so it shouldn’t be a conflict.”


End file.
